


Knowing Her

by panther



Category: Spartacus: Blood and Sand
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panther/pseuds/panther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the first visits Ilithyia makes to the Ludas, and how both woman hatch their schemes to outmanoeuvre the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing Her

**Author's Note:**

> for a challenge to write the same scene twice, from two points of view.

Their home is quaint, small and yet larger than those around it, clean but not quite to the standards of Rome, staffed and yet somehow empty. The Ludas taints it with a sour taste that will prevent them from ever rising beyond this station and yet, it intrigues me. From the first time I saw it, I was enthralled by it and socialising with Lucretia and her desperate ways is something I am willing to deal with to tread this close to danger.   
The gladiators are like wild animals, locked in a cage with bars that could break at any moment. It makes my heart race and Lucretia foolishly believes that it is her that makes me smile, gives me cause to return. I care for her not. Leading me out on to the balcony, Lucretia orders slaves to please me and I smile in pity, not gratitude. Surely, if they were trained well they would not have needed her orders to know what she desired? That would be the way in Rome. They think themselves Roman but there is Roman and those who live and breathe the city itself. 

The gladiators battle on the sands, every stroke exciting me a little more, every glance up at me making my heart race. They are bred to perform and I am their glorious audience. They should feel privileged. 

Of course, it ends too soon. The beasts have to be given rest in order to perform in the arena, to fight to the glorious deaths they deserve. I follow Lucretia back into her rooms, taking in the bare walls and quiet surroundings. I am filled with nervous energy, excitement. I was ready for the beasts to continue to do battle, for their wooden blades to strike soft skin and make man cry out in pain. I was ready to see Spartacus hurt and bleed at my feet, and they had denied me that. 

“I am saddened to see it end,” I say softly, “I would have had more.”

“Next time,” she assures me with a smile. 

“Next time? You are so sure of my return?” I laugh. How dare she presume such things. A mere Ludas owner’s wife. Yet she is right. I do wish to see more of the beasts. There is also the fact that I know she would fold to my any desire in order to please me and secure my return, a scrap of notoriety within the circles of Roman gossip, “Next week. After the games. I will see who has survived. It will be delightful. Pray the rains come before then of course.”

I kiss her, hard on the lips, and smile against her unsure response. After a moment, her lips part and I know I have her. She lets me control everything, the fake confidence giving way to the timid woman afraid of upsetting me and destroying her attempts at forming a reputation. I could have secrets here. That is a powerful thing, and worth every trip below my station. 

 

*

Ilithyia makes no attempt to hide the way she takes in every detail of my home and then judges it a moment later. She has no reason to. I am honoured to have her at my home without an official reason and I am well aware of it. Her every movement reeks of opportunities that I cannot and will not let slip through my fingers. We must claw ourselves out of the pit we find ourselves in and Ilithyia is the perfect rope to cling to. She can pull me into the sort of social circles that I had previously only dreamed of. For once, my husband’s habit of speaking before thinking might turn out to be a good thing. Spartacus had her attention, and now I had to keep it. I have the slaves running around after her, and make sure she is seated comfortably out on the balcony. Even I rarely have such comforts and I note that I should. I should demand such things within my own home, learn from the examples set in Rome. 

The gladiators fascinate her, and remind me that beyond the glamorous dresses and expensive jewels this woman is human, and controllable. It will start with the gladiators and lead to more. They are pulling her in without every speaking a word to her. She will come to me in order to see them and I will reap the rewards from it. She is but a girl in a woman’s body.

Orders given long before Ilithyia arrived mean that everything is brought to a halt before Spartacus can be hurt, because I know that is what she longs to witness. She wishes to see him brought to his knees in the cruel afternoon sun, not in glorious gladiator armour, but in a sweaty heap. She yearns for his humiliation and she fails to hide it from anyone looking to understand her. 

“I am saddened to see it end. I would have had more.”

“Next time,” I smile. Next time, a longer visit and more wine. She will be merry in her excitement and hand over a little more of what I need. 

“Next time? You are so sure of my return?” She laughs, and it is the years of dealing with people looking down upon this house that I don’t laugh along with her. There was never a question that she would return, again and again, from the moment she agreed to come in the first place. Ilithyia has no need to be seen with me, to leave Rome and wet her feet in my circles of society. I gain much from her presence and she gives away things that she can never take back. She is a foolish young woman. “Next week. After the games. I will see who has survived. It will be delightful. Pray the rains come before then of course.”

Another wipe at my house. Another reason to pull her down to my level as I try and raise myself to hers. Moving towards me, she smiles and then kisses me, hard, and I did not foresee this. If there was something within these walls I thought might please her it lies many feet below, locked behind cold metal bars. I give in to her demands, unsure of how to judge this development. It might be another thing in my favour and it might be another in hers. The balance between us is so delicate, so impossible to judge. 

I can’t help but wonder about this fire she plays with, and if her fingers are destined to burn for her carelessness.


End file.
